Daddy’s Sweet Girl
Laylah Roberts
Copyright
Laylah Roberts
Daddy’s Sweet Girl
© 2019, Laylah Roberts
[email protected]
laylahroberts.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Cover Design by: Allycat’s Creations
Editing: Celeste Jones
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Let’s keep in touch!
Books by Laylah Roberts
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Excerpt from Mastered by Malone
Let’s keep in touch!
Don’t miss a new release, sign up to my newsletter for sneak peeks, deleted scenes and giveaways: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/p7l6g0
You can also join my Facebook readers group here:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/386830425069911/
Books by Laylah Roberts
Doms of Decadence
Just for You, Sir
Forever Yours, Sir
For the Love of Sir
Sinfully Yours, Sir
Make me, Sir
A Taste of Sir
To Save Sir
Sir’s Redemption
Reveal Me, Sir
Montana Daddies
Daddy Bear
Daddy’s Little Darling
Daddy’s Naughty Darling (in the Dirty Daddies Anthology)
Daddy’s Sweet Girl
Daddy’s Lost Girl (coming Nov, 2019)
Haven, Texas Series
Lila’s Loves
Laken’s Surrender
Saving Savannah
Molly’s Man
Saxon’s Soul
Mastered by Malone
Men of Orion
Worlds Apart
Cavan Gang
Rectify
Redemption
Redemption Valley
Audra’s Awakening
Old-Fashioned Series
An Old-Fashioned Man
Two Old-Fashioned Men
Her Old-Fashioned Husband
Her Old-Fashioned Boss
His Old-Fashioned Love
An Old-Fashioned Christmas
WildeSide
Wilde
Sinclair
Luke
The Hunters
A Mate to Cherish
A Mate to Sacrifice
Chapter One
Abby Reynold contemplated murder.
She glared at old Pete who was on his sixth cup of coffee. Who the hell sat in a diner and drank coffee at ten p.m.? She glanced longingly over at the booth seats. She could just sit, lay her head down and go to sleep.
Or she could go home and sleep if it wasn’t for old Pete. She sighed. She knew she should be nicer. He was obviously lonely and looking for company. But it wasn’t like he ever talked. He just sat there and drank coffee until she was ready to scream.
This really wasn’t worth the meagre tip he’d leave. She heard a snore coming from the kitchen where Oscar was several shots into his not-so-secret whiskey stash.
If Gloria, the owner, would just set a closing time Abby could have shuffled old Pete on. But no, Gloria had this policy that they didn’t close until the last customer left. Even if the last customer was drinking endless free cups of coffee.
Finally, old Pete left. With a sigh of relief, she swiftly switched the sign to closed and turned off the lights, heading out the back. Everything was already closed down and cleaned. She passed Oscar who was sitting on a chair, his head against the wall behind him, snoring.
She figured Gloria only kept him on because he was her brother. His cooking was average and his personal hygiene was very, very questionable.
She pulled on her coat and grabbed her purse then left. Cool air assaulted her, making her shiver. Reaching into her handbag, she grabbed her keys. She hated leaving the diner at night. The front was well lit but out the back, Gloria hadn’t bothered with security lights. Of course, Gloria always left before it grew dark and she didn’t seem to be particularly worried about her staff’s safety.
Abby bit at her lip, preparing to make the mad dash to her car. She’d had to park at the back as she was on the late shift and everyone else had grabbed the closest spaces. They didn’t think about leaving her one near the back door. No, that would be too thoughtful.
Stop being a bitch.
She winced at even thinking that word. Nana would box her ears if she ever heard her swear. But then, Nana was gone now. She pulled out her small flashlight. Her phone was so ancient that all it could do was call people and send messages. No fancy flashlight apps for her.
“Okay, let’s do this. One, two, three.” She raced towards her car, not glancing around, just focused on her goal. Suddenly, her foot hit something, crushing her toes as she dove forward, her hands and knees scraping painfully along the hard gravel. Her keys and flashlight flew from her hands. She let out a cry of pain, lying there for a moment in shock, panting for air. Slowly, she rolled onto her butt.
“Shit,” she muttered. Well, if ever there was a time to swear it was now. Her flashlight must have turned off when it bashed against the ground because she could barely see a thing. Where had it gone?
“Looking for this?” a low voice asked.
Abby screeched as her flashlight turned on. A huge man dressed all in black stood a few feet away. He kept his face in the shadows, but the flashlight bobbed in his hand. She managed to spot her handbag about a foot away and reached for it with a trembling hand. She didn’t know who he was, but she figured someone hanging around in a dark parking lot after ten p.m. dressed all in black maybe wasn’t going to be a good guy.
“Leave the bag where it is,” he commanded in a low voice.
She froze. Her heart was racing so hard she was scared she might pass out.
Calm down, Abby. You need to stay conscious if you’re going to fight him off.
Oh hell, who was she kidding? She was a chubby, unfit wimp who couldn’t even kill a spider. What chance did she have against this guy if he decided to hurt her?
“You know, usually by this stage people ask me who I am and what I want,” he drawled. His voice was dark. Cold. And she shivered. She wanted to get off the ground but she was too terrified to move. “Don’t you want to know what I want from you, little rabbit?”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t.”
“So, she does speak. Thought I might have terrified you into paralysis.”
She licked her lips. “I-I don’t have
any money.”
“Your brother has something my boss wants.”
Crap. She should have known Max would have something to do with this. Everything shit in her life had Max all over it.
“I-I’m paying off his debt,” she whispered. Why was he here? She paid regularly. Three hundred dollars a week. It was as much as she could afford and even then, she barely had enough to cover her expenses. Thank God, she’d inherited the house she lived in from Nana. She’d thought about selling it to clear what Max owed, but it was the only home she’d ever known.
Besides, she was pretty certain with the way Max racked up debt that she’d soon find herself in this position again. Anger filled her. Why was it up to her to pay off her brother’s debts?
Because they’ll kill him if you don’t.
Even worse, they’ll kill you.
“Mr. Markovich said I could pay him in installments.” And if she was late, she knew she’d end up with late fees tacked on. Probably in the form of a missing finger or toe. She bit her lip to stop herself from whimpering.
The man whistled. He still held her flashlight, while she remained sitting on the cold ground. She shivered continuously. “Little shit owes money to Markovich, does he?”
“You don’t work for Markovich?”
“I don’t work for Markovich. The man I work for is far scarier than Markovich. I’m surprised he’d let you pay off a debt. He must like you.”
Not as far as she could tell.
Her stomach bubbled. What was going on? What trouble had Max gotten himself into now? Nana always said the Reynold men were born with an abundance of charm and a complete lack of morals. They could sweet talk someone into bed, then rob them blind while they slept. That was how Uncle Jack had made a living until one of his marks woke up and whacked him over the head.
“May he rest in peace,” she muttered.
“What?”
Shit. She froze. She hadn’t meant to speak out loud.
“Was that a threat, little rabbit?”
Okay, she’d thought his voice was cold and harsh before. Now he sounded just nasty. Pull-your-teeth-out-with-pliers-nasty.
She really, really needed to stop watching crime shoes on T.V.
“A t-threat? Have you l-looked at me? What s-sort of threat could I b-be?”
There was a beat of silence.
“Yeah. True. Max said you were a pushover. Bit of a wimp. That you spend all your time watching T.V. and have no life.”
Hurt stabbed her. Okay, it was one thing to know your brother was a jerk and an idiot. But it was another to hear that he was saying such hurtful things about her.
Like none of that was the truth?
Well, it didn’t matter if it was, it was still hurtful. She took a deep breath, trying to push back the pain. So, what if Max was saying stuff about her? What was so great about his life? And why was it that his issues kept landing on her plate?
“Whatever money Max owes your boss has nothing to do with me,” she told him a low voice, surprising herself. She didn’t usually fight back. She usually let people walk all over her.
“Is that so, little rabbit?” he whispered.
Okay, maybe now was not the time to find her backbone. Now was probably the time to say whatever this guy wanted to hear and get the hell out of here with all her fingers and toes attached.
“It i-is so.”
Damn it, Abby. Just say whatever he wants to hear to get away from him safely.
The big man crouched down and shone the flashlight in her face. She placed her arm over her eyes, trying to shield them. He grabbed her arm, making her whimper in pain.
“Now, listen here,” he said threateningly. “I want to know where your useless prick of a brother is.”
“I d-don’t know.” She was so terrified she felt like throwing up.
He made a low, angry noise and his hold on her tightened. Tears welled in her eyes.
“But he calls me once a week,” she lied. “I spoke to him yesterday. Next time he calls, I’ll find out for you.”
“You fucking better. And you best not be playing me. I don’t like when people lie to me, got it?” He dragged her closer until she was nearly gagging on the smell of his breath.
“I u-understand.”
“And don’t try to run or bring anyone else into this or things will go much worse for you.”
His threat made, he disappeared into the shadows, dropping her flashlight on the ground.
Abby sat there for a moment, trying to bring her emotions back under control. The urge to vomit warred with her desire to just sit there and cry.
Reynolds don’t cry, Abigail.
You can’t let them see you hurting.
Abby tried to be brave. To be stoic. To never show her fear. But damn, it was hard. Most of the time, she just wanted to build a fort and hide from life.
But right now, she had to get off the ground, gather up her stuff and go pay her weekly installment for Max’s debt.
Wasn’t it enough to have one bad guy in her life? Seemed not. Seemed she was just an over-achiever.
KENT JENSON SLAMMED his gloved hand into the boxing bag, trying to exhaust himself enough that he might be able to sleep tonight. The door to the gym slid open. He landed a few more upper cuts before someone grabbed the bag, holding it still for him. He glanced over and saw Zeke.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“No problem, chief,” Zeke said easily.
Kent punched in silence, until sweat dripped down his face and stung his eyes and his lungs burned. When he was breathing hard, his muscles shaking with fatigue, he stepped back and started undoing his gloves.
“What you doing here this time of night?” he asked.
“I was working in the security hub, saw you were in here, thought I’d come get a workout.”
Right. And Kent also believed there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
“Some of the boys are going to a club in the city this weekend,” Zeke offered casually. “Maybe you should go with them.”
Kent wiped his face with a towel then walked over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Once, he would have jumped at the chance to visit a BDSM club. But now, the thought of it just made him feel tired. Empty.
“I’ll pass,” he said.
Zeke raised an eyebrow. “Might help you sleep better.”
“What makes you think I’m not sleeping?”
“Chief, it’s obvious to anyone that looks at you. You look like shit. You’re as mean as a rattle snake, you’ve been stomping around here snarling at anyone who moves for the last few weeks. You need a session at the club.”
“Tell you what I don’t need and that’s someone sticking their nose into my business.”
“If this was anyone else who wasn’t sleeping, you’d be the first to get all up in their business.”
“I’m the boss.”
“That means we don’t get to worry about you?” Zeke replied.
“Jesus,” he muttered and took a long drink of water.
“Hey, I don’t want to have this talk, but I drew the short straw.”
They were choosing straws to see who had to come speak to him? Had he been that much of an asshole? He thought over the past few weeks and realized he probably had been.
Fuck.
“We just figured a few sessions at the club would help ease some tension.”
Once upon a time they might have. He needed the feeling of being in charge. These nightmares were something he had no control over. A session at the club, taking command of a sub, a scene, it used to give him back that control, to help him quiet the nightmares.
Now, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t feel the pull he once had. The nightmares seemed to be coming more frequently and he couldn’t run off to a club each time they did.
“I’m not going to the club. But I am sorry I’ve been such an asshole. I’ll do better.”
Zeke sighed. “Chief—”
“You want to spot me f
or a while?” he asked.
Zeke stared at him for a while longer. Then he nodded. “Sure. I live to serve.”
“Asshole.”
Zeke grinned. “That’s your new nickname, not mine.”
Kent just shook his head. “The lack of respect around here is disturbing. Maybe I should have stayed in the military.”
No, getting out was the best thing he could have done. He just had to find a way to combat the nightmares.
ABBY WALKED OUT OF the back entrance to the bar and let out a low breath. A shudder rolled over her. She’d been coming here every Friday night for the last three months and she still left feeling dirty and nasty and like she wanted to cry.
At least she didn’t have to walk through the notorious biker bar anymore. She’d done that the first night and nearly hadn’t made it out alive. Someone had grabbed her and pressed her up against the bar, his hands hard and heavy on her body and...
She bit her lip. Don’t think about it. Gray, one of Mr. Markovich’s assistants, had seen her and intervened and since then, Mr. Markovich had let her come in the back way. And, unlike the diner, the bar’s back parking lot actually had security lights. Although it seemed darker tonight than usual.
She grabbed her keys in one hand and her bag in the other. She had to think about investing in some pepper spray. Or maybe she should start carrying around the police baton Nana had given her when she turned eighteen. It weighed a ton, though.
But it was better than walking around completely unarmed and helpless. She walked swiftly towards her car, coming to a sudden stop as she heard someone cry out. She froze, looked around. The sound had come from her right, behind a large van. She hesitated.
The cry came again. Female. Scared.
“Get away from me, you assholes.”
Shit. Was that who she thought it was? It couldn’t be. What would Eden Jensen be doing here? Everyone knew the Jensens. Eden’s brothers were gorgeous, rich and powerful. Clint was the oldest. Stern and slightly scary. His younger brother, Kent was much more easygoing. He always had a smile for her and he was a hell of a tipper.
Too bad she always turned into a fumbling, tongue-tied idiot around him.
She dropped her keys back into her bag and grabbed out her cell phone, fumbling with it as she heard a thumping sound then a pained cry.
Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies, #3) Page 1
